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Hellfire and Damnation!

I’m going to be 50 in 10 days. I wanted a 50th birthday bash, dammit. I’ve never had a birthday party in my life and while that doesn’t bother me for “normal” birthdays, I kind of thought my milestone birthdays would have merited at least the popping of a balloon.

Yes, I’m whining and I’m feeling entitled. My first husband was too busy with Amway (oh yes, you read THAT right) to do anything but say “happy birthday” on my 30th birthday. My second husband FORGOT my 40th, 41st and 42nd birthdays. Uh huh. I can pick the winners.

I’m not married, not involved with a man, and my friends are scattered across the country. My parents don’t believe in birthdays after age 18 – that age when they joyfully announced they were no longer responsible for my upkeep or actions. My revenge is that they do that with their grandchildren, too. No more birthday presents or money after age 18. My son still hasn’t accepted this and each birthday since he turned 18, he calls to tell me “The G’rents sent a card with no money in it.” I patiently explain: “You’re past the age where they believe birthdays are something they should acknowledge with anything but a card. Instead of whining about no money, get your ass up to visit them before they’re not around.”

The Spawn (said with affection) will remember my birthday two days late, as usual, even though he uses my birthday for things like combination locks and passwords.

So it’s up to me to provide my birthday fun. I bought a discounted hot stone massage from Living Social a few months ago. I think I’ll use it on my birthday.

Then, I’m going to take myself out to dinner to one of those places where everyone comes around to sing happy birthday and announce to the wait staff that it’s my 50th birthday. That’s going to be hard, though, since I hate chain restaurants. Hmmm.

Maybe I’ll post an ad on Craigslist that it’s my 50th birthday, on the day of.

I’ll get a few hundred felicitations of the day on Facebook, mostly from my Castle Age army.

Turning 50 is truly a milestone. It means I’ve lived half a century. I think, in honor of that, I’ll vary my walking route and go the opposite way around the creek.

I know!!! I’ll go to AARP online and find all the places where I can get great “senior” discounts and go use my AARP card.

Actually, maybe what I’ll do is call my friend, Paul, invite myself to his home, 150 miles away, tell him it’s my 50th birthday and let him wait on me hand and foot. The cool thing about that is that after feeding me something scrumptiously moroccan, plying me with as much wine as I can drink and watching old movies with me, he won’t put the moves on me, and I’ll go sleep in the guest bedroom.

That’s what I’m going to do. Paul is “it.” He needs a break from his borderline crazy-assed, dipshit girlfriend anyway. She has no friggin clue the treasure she has. Paul on the other hand, is so steeped in “honor” that he feels bound to care for this woman who is always at death’s door, but never seems to DIE already (yeah, that was mean, but you don’t know her). She spits shrapnel-filled vitriol at him for each successive nice thing he does for her. She manipulates all hell out of him and he allows it. I’ve had that discussion with him, many times but he just can’t seem to walk away. Each time he tries, she has another “heart attack.” This man actually bought her a house to live in in Florida when she said she wanted to “die in Florida” and he moved all her shit down there. Now she won’t move in. Yeah, Paul’s got his own set of issues, but he’s a good guy, and one of my best friends.

Yes. I’ll descend on Paul. He needs a break and I know he’d be happy to see me and kill a couple bottles of whine with me.

Can you tell I have an exciting life?

This is pathetic. I have isolated myself to the point where there’s no one I know, who lives close to me, who will celebrate a half-century of life with me.

Sweet bleeding jesus. I need to make some life adjustments. Watch me. My cousin Walt said to me once: “Girl, people need to hang on when you get moving because you are the wind of change!” The times, they are a’changin!

Oh, I was just having a “moment.” My second husband was 8 years younger. It was too much of an age diff at the time. I really want a partner, and if one half my age is the right guy, great, but if one twice my age comes along…well, let’s hope he has lots of money to leave me. hahahahahah!

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I could have written that…..
Spent my 50th b’day in a hotel room by myself because I was at a software conference for work 😀
My mother called and wished me a “Happy Half-Century, dear” – I was outraged!!
I’m *not* THAT old 😀
However, now that I look back from my current perspective, my thought that “50 is old” does not apply – there may be a concept of “elderly” but there is not more concept of “old” in my mind 🙂

50 isn’t scaring me anymore. It’s just another number. It’s actually an opportunity for a new start, so I’m going to start new. Every decision I make will be one that will be carefully weighed as to how it affects my future. No more snap decisions or knee-jerking and no more taking on more than I can handle. I’ve learned to say “no” and I’m learning to assess what I can and can’t handle. I think my trepidation was the prospect of spending the rest of my life reacting instead of being proactive. 🙂